


‘Tis The Season

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Requited Unrequited Love, Sproggles, maybe just Fuck Or Be Extremely Uncomfortable, maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 22:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alfor is about to Sproggle, the Queen is unavoidably detained, so it’s up to his closest friend, Royal Advisor and all-around Gorgeous Man to save the day.





	‘Tis The Season

**Author's Note:**

> I first came across the concept of the Sproggles via tumblr user Lotors Saltwife. They write on here as Longpig and their fic is absolutely awesome, check it out and leave nice comments.

“...so we won’t be able to launch for at least another twelve vargas, and I’m just so worried about him, Coran.”

Coran peered closer at the screen. It was disrupted by static, no doubt caused by the same space storm that was preventing the Queen from travelling home, but the emotions in her eyes were clear. 

“Last time, we were both in it together, and we made Allura, and it was wonderful...”

She trailed off in a haze of nostalgia. Coran remembered, he’d been responsible for keeping the royal couple hydrated and treating any friction burns. But now, the services the Queen was requesting of him were even more... specialised. 

“... but if it has to be anyone else, we’d both want it to be you.”

She reached out and touched the screen gently, and he could imagine she was stroking his moustache, the way she sometimes did. She was a sensual woman, and Coran was sometimes almost as jealous of Alfor as he was of her. 

Almost. 

He snapped off a salute and tried to sound as reassuring as possible. 

“I won’t let you down, your Majesty. Alfor is in good hands.”

“I’m sure he is,” she sniggered, as Coran mentally kicked himself. 

“Well, duty calls!” he managed, and ended the transmission. 

When he went to groom his hair and moustache, more out of habit than because he thought they really needed it, he realised his hands were shaking.

Alfor, the man he’d served and protected and secretly loved at least since boot camp, was alone and suffering and only Coran could help.

_Hullo, brave Altean! Now, you’re growing up fast, and you’ve probably noticed a few changes in yourself, and in your friends. You’ve got hair in new places, but you didn’t shapeshift it there? You feel hot all the time, but you still feel like you want to collect cushions and blankets? Your classmate has started to smell really nice, even all sweaty after facing the Gladiator - maybe even especially all sweaty! It can be scary and confusing, but don’t worry - your good friend Coran is here to help!_

Alfor groaned and shifted, trying and failing desperately to maintain the dignity that was becoming of a king. He was intensely aware of the bead of sweat rolling down his spine, the heat in his belly, the urgent pressure that was building and building and no matter how much he pressed himself against one of his many pillows it wouldn’t ease...

He’d sent for educational resources, seeking a reminder that what he was experiencing was nothing more than a hormonal reaction, not something that ought to reduce an evolved life form such as an Altean, an Altean scientist, an Altean _king_ , to an achy, needy mess. But of course Coran, as part of his long and varied career, had been an instructor of young cadets in the Space Squad, and of course he was up there on screen now, reassuring his charges that everything was normal, and natural, and nice.

Coran, with the great hair and the big arms and the kind eyes. Coran, star of the dreams that surely everyone had about their best friend once in a while, right? Coran, who...

“Your Majesty, may I come in?”

...who was knocking at the door to his quarters.

Coran came in looking uncertain, and stood at some distance from the bed. 

“The, ah, the Queen knows you’re going through a difficult time, and she thought I might be able to... offer some assistance.” He was blushing, and quite unable to meet Alfor’s eye. “Of course, as your advisor everything you tell me is completely confidential, but this would be even more...” he swallowed, “I’d be completely discreet.”

He raised his head, looking past Alfor to the screen, where his younger self was gesturing enthusiastically with a glove puppet. Alfor wanted the mattress to open up and swallow him.

“It’s out of the question,” he snapped. “It’s - I’m -“ 

_Married_ didn’t seem like much of an excuse, given that his wife had apparently been the one to suggest this, and he found he was quite unable to focus on anything besides the delicate pink shade of Coran’s cheek bones, and the way it contrasted with the turquoise stripes just beneath them. 

“It would be wrong,” he managed finally. “I’d be taking advantage of my position - taking advantage of _you_ , just using you for my own needs, like I’m some sort of animal. I’d...”

Alfor was interrupted by a soft, husky moaning sound. Coran’s expression was glazed, the tips of his moustache twitching slightly, and he was standing as though he’d pulled a muscle in his groin. 

“Don’t talk like that,” he said hoarsely. “Not unless you mean it.”

“You, ah, you _want_ me to use you like some sort of animal?”

Coran nodded solemnly. He was standing there, big and bashful and smelling so good, and Alfor was Sproggling so hard...

He threw his cover back, as Coran struggled quickly out of his jacket and pulled his gloves off with his teeth. Freckles dotted his forearms, along with a light dusting of fine red hair. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothed. “Let me take care of you, Sire. ” He was pushing Alfor’s robes aside, freeing his cock, stiff and leaky and so hard it hurt. Coran’s hands were callused but soft, with long, strong fingers that wrapped around him, stroking him with a slow, regular rhythm that had Alfor fisting his hands in the sheets and arching up in desperation. Coran kissed him, his moustache astonishingly scratchy, his tongue sure and sweet, and all the while he kept up that slow, maddening caress. Then his mouth was on Alfor’s throat, his belly, and finally he was lapping gently at the pre cum flowing down Alfor’s shaft. 

Alfor was shocked and delighted in equal measure. He reached a hand out, whether to stop Coran or urge him on he couldn’t honestly have said, and Coran grasped it and guided his fingers to twine in his hair and push him down, down onto Alfor. He was groaning as Alfor fucked his mouth, and Alfor’s thighs were trembling, his breath hitching and then Coran was swallowing him down, sucking gently but firmly until he shouted and collapsed back against the sheets, spent and breathless. Coran wiped his mouth and stretched out beside him.

“What about you?” Alfor asked when he could speak again. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Coran replied, voice slightly husky. Hands tucked behind his head, he looked the very picture of contentment, if not slightly smug. 

_“A simultaneous Sproggle can be one of the most fun experiences an Altean can have! But even if you’re going it alone, don’t be a selfish Sproggler - remember to take care of your partner’s needs as well!”_ Instructor Wimbleton-Smythe chirped from the screen behind them. Alfor laughed and flipped a button to deactivate it. 

“You heard him,” he teased. “Don’t make me disappoint my good friend Coran. Besides, I’ve been... wondering about this for a while, about us.”

Coran turned to face him, eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?”

Alfor nodded. “Show me what you like.”

Coran kicked his boots off and unfastened his shirt, before his hands went to his belt buckle. He wriggled out of his trousers, and Alfor had to bite back a gasp. 

Coran was _big_. His cock was thick and swollen, flushed at the tip, so long it spilled out of his fist. He pumped himself slowly, and his eyes kept meeting Alfor’s, seeking approval or just liking being watched. His other hand went to his mouth, and he briefly sucked his fingers before sliding them down and - _oh_. Now that was interesting. Everything was much more anatomical than it had been in his fantasies. Coran’s cock lay heavy against his belly. His hole was deep pink, framed with a few wiry ginger hairs. Alfor wasn’t as young as he had been, but that didn’t seem to matter to the Sproggles, and he felt himself getting hard at the sight. 

Coran noticed his reaction and grinned. He arched his hips and parted his knees, definitely enjoying putting on a show. Alfor was fixated, urgent and needy, craving stimulation, something, _anything_. 

“Touch me, Coran,” he said, but it came out imperious, more like a command. Coran glanced up at him, surprise evident in his eyes. “I want to feel what you’re feeling.”

“Would your Majesty happen to have any lotion or something similar to hand?” he asked, a slight tension in his voice. Feeling rather sheepish, Alfor reached under a pillow and brought out a half-empty tube of lubricant. 

“That’s the stuff,” Coran purred. “No need to feel embarrassed... I must have got through gallons of these last time it happened to me...”

He squeezed the lubricant onto his finger - a _lot_ of lubricant, Alfor noted - and positioned himself on one side, hand resting gently between Alfor’s legs. His eyes never left Alfor’s and he was biting his lip. Alfor realised how hard he was concentrating and felt a surge of fondness. 

“Go on,” he murmured. 

Coran took a deep breath and moved his hand, and then in was Alfor’s turn to gasp as he felt Coran’s finger, cool and slippery, stroking gently between his cheeks, up and down before honing in on his hole and gently teasing the surrounding tissue. It was tantalising, but nowhere near enough, and he pressed back against Coran in the wanton way the Sproggles seemed to demand. 

The finger inside him felt hot, raw and intrusive, and Alfor groaned. 

“It’s alright,” Coran murmured, pressing soft kisses to every part of Alfor he could reach, “it’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“More,” Alfor gasped, voice rising to a keening note as Coran added another finger, then another. Each finger was a sharp, burning stretch, followed by a delicious sense of fullness, every movement sending sparks of pleasure leaping in his belly. Coran kept up a slow, merciless rhythm, kissing Alfor breathless the whole time, and it was so much but still not enough and Alfor wanted to scream. 

“More,” he demanded again, finally. “Give me more, give me everything.” He grabbed at Coran’s hips, trying to move him into position above him. Coran’s pupils were dilated, his lips swollen and wet. He sat back on his heels and slicked his cock with more lubricant, adding another generous fingerful to Alfor. 

He lifted Alfor’s knee, spread him wide, and lined himself up. Blunt pressure, Coran’s cock thrillingly hard against him, and then he felt a sudden give and Coran was inside him. He grit his teeth and moaned, eyes watering. 

Coran’s eyes widened in alarm, and he tried to pull back, but Alfor grabbed him. It hurt, but through the pain was a sense of incredible, overwhelming fullness, exactly the kind of stimulation he craved. 

“Don’t stop,” he hissed through his teeth. “You’re _mine_ , Coran, and I want you, and I want you to give me everything.” His fingers dug deep into Coran’s back, and he could feel his cock twitch inside him, whether at the pain or the command or some combination of the two. 

“Yours,” he murmured back, and began to move, slow and gentle but so deep. Alfor felt vulnerable and skewered with every thrust, and the sensation was so exquisitely pleasurable he thought he could faint. He’d lost his erection at the initial pain of the penetration, but now he was achingly hard, his cock weeping slippery fluid over his belly. With every moment he wanted Coran more, wanted his weight pressing down on him and his musky scent and his thick hard cock moving inside him and sending hot liquid ecstasy surging up his spine. 

“I’m yours,” Coran said again, voice trembling, and Alfor could see the raw emotion on his face. He was so often jovial and joking, or else solemn in the execution of his formal duties, but now his eyes were wide and soft, full of joy and fear, and Alfor felt a surge of possessive love for him. “I’ve always been yours, I’d do anything for you, anything...”

“My Coran,” Alfor spoke into his ear, fingers twining in the gorgeous red hair. “Give me everything you’ve got, I want it, I want you to fill me...”

“Oh fuck!” Coran gasped, voice broken. Alfor felt his whole body shudder, and then there was a wonderful sensation of thick pulsing heat as Coran came inside him. He thought Coran was trying to tell him something, but the sensation was too much for Alfor, and he simply bit Coran as pleasure overwhelmed him, blood rushing in his ears, and he clung to his mate as his orgasm flooded through him and swept the urgency of the Sproggles away. 

A long while afterwards, Coran lay in Alfor’s arms, sticky and sore and covered in scratches. He had fucked and been fucked until the desperate light had finally gone from the King’s eyes, and instead he had wrapped Coran up in his bed-nest, cringing at the primitiveness of the urge even as he delighted in making Coran comfortable. 

He was idly stroking Coran’s belly, tracing his stripes with his fingertips. 

“I love you, you know,” he said suddenly, and Coran held his breath. “She knew before I did, knows things about me that I don’t even know. She’s a lot like you in that way.”

“You should listen to us more often,” Coran agreed. He wanted to bathe, to wash the sweat and cum out of his hair, but most of all he wanted to lie there forever with Alfor spooning him, feeling his voice rumble against his back. 

“Of course, last time I Sproggled it was synchronised,” Alfor went on. A speculative tone had crept into his voice, the one that meant Coran was likely to end up being chased by alien monsters, or on fire. “Imagine if we could arrange it so that all three of us...”

“We’d die! Probably.”

“Maybe.” Alfor’s voice was full of delight. “But it would be fun to find out.”


End file.
